Well, rather!
And did he feel it?
He suffered tortures, not only for days, but for weeks and months, absolute tortures. The very thought of Collins made him want to rise and slay him.
“To think,” he said over and over to himself, “that a low dog like Collins on whom I wouldn’t wipe my feet intellectually, as it were, could do this to me! He hypnotized me, by George! He did! He can! Maybe he could do it again! I wonder if he knows? Am I really the lesser and this scum the greater? Do writers grow on trees?”
Sad thought.
And some weeks later, meeting his old enemy one day on the street, he had the immense dissatisfaction of seeing the light of triumph and contempt in his eyes. The latter was so bold now, and getting along so well as a reporter, or “newspaper man,” that he had the hardihood to leer, sniff and exclaim:
“These swell reporters! These high-priced ink-slingers! Say, who got the best of the train robber story, huh?”
And Binns replied——
But never mind what Binns replied. It wouldn’t be fit to read, and no publisher would print it anyhow.